The Only Gift I'll Ever Need is The Joy of Family
by friskynotebook
Summary: Leia's about to leave on a trip and isn't looking forward to being away from her new husband. Han decides an early Fete gift was just what the medic ordered. Written for Organanation for the HanxLeia Secret Santa gift exchange


"I hate it when I have to leave," Leia confided, whispering to her husband in their bedroom.

She snuggled into the sheets, curled up in Han's embrace as they watched some trashy reality holo show— _The Real Housewives of Coruscant_ or something like that. Leia had to leave on a diplomatic trip the next day and although Han would rather be doing something a little more _fun_ with his wife, his drooping eyelids told him those plans would have to be shelved for when they weren't so damn tired.

"Me too," he slurred, stroking her hair lazily. "It's a lot less fun when you aren't here."

She raised an eyebrow, still pressed against his chest. "Fun? I'm fun after twelve hour long senate sessions?"

"Okay, maybe not fun in the traditional sense of the word," he backpedaled. "But you giving me a hard time after those senate sessions is kind of fun. Bickerin' with each other's always been our strong suit, sweetheart."

She snorted, too tired to muster up a real laugh. "I suppose you're onto something, flyboy. But it's not like we can't comm each other."

"See, the bickerin' only works when we're in the same room," he argued playfully. "It doesn't have the same magical effect if we're planets apart."

Leia chuckled. "Magical effect?"

"Yeah," Han continued. "Y'know, it has healing properties. Like on Hoth it kept us warm, and just now it woke you up a little, didn't it?"

She rolled her eyes. "Maybe . . ."

"See? Magic, sweetheart," he replied, proud of himself.

"Well, it's too bad the magic doesn't carry through comms," she said, sadness pricking her voice.

Han bit his lip, his eyes darting to the closet.

Leia frowned, lifting her head slightly. "What?"

"Nothing," he replied, a little too quickly.

Her eyes narrowed. "What are you up to?"

"Can I not keep things to myself?" he replied, trying to distract his wife.

"Depends on what it is," she allowed. "But you're getting awfully worked up about it."

He sighed. "I'm debating on whether I should give you something now or wait until Fete."

Leia frowned. "You already have a Fete present for me? It's so far away."

"Only a few months," he protested. "But this had to be specially made."

She sat up, her loose braid knocking against his chest. "Specially made?"

Han scratched the back of his head, looking away. "Yeah . . . Anyways, I was thinkin' you might want it now instead of at Fete."

She cocked her brow. "Han, you can't say that and expect me to not want it now."

He chuckled lightly, scratching his neck again. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He crawled out of bed and went to the closet, reaching up and pulling down two awkwardly wrapped packages from the top shelf.

"Two packages?" she asked as he went back to his side of the bed.

He handed her one package, then wiped his palm on his thigh. "One's for me, one's for you."

"You got yourself a Fete gift?" she teased gently, placing her hand on top of his.

"It'll make sense when you open it." He squeezed her hand, then pulled it away. "Go on," he encouraged.

Leia carefully opened the package, her face scrunching up when she saw the present. It was a stuffed wampa—perfectly plush and fluffy—wearing Han's signature shirt, vest, and bloodstripes. She turned the toy around, inspecting each detail.

Han watched her, sweat forming on his brow. It wasn't too hard to find replicas of his clothing for the wampa—his and his wife's fame ensured there would be plenty of merchandise featuring them for years to come. But he didn't know if Leia would like it, or if the clothes looked close to what he would wear—

"Is this from Weld a Wampa?"

He blinked for a moment, startled. _How in the hells did she figure that—the tag_. Each wampa made from the personalized toy-making store came with a sewn-in tag with the store's logo on the animal's left paw.

He swallowed. "Yeah," he gruffed, looking away.

"You went to Weld a Wampa, stood in line with a bunch of toddlers, and made me a wampa with your clothes?" she breathed, her lips quirking upwards.

Han's cheeks turned bright red, trying to forget the toddler part of the trip. "Yeah," he repeated, still looking away. "Y'know, because when we're apart and missin' each other, at least we have somethin' that looks like the other person to cuddle with at night or when we're feelin' lonely . . ."

She gently turned his head to meet his eyes. "Han," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "This is the sweetest thing you've ever done for me."

His face softened. "Really? You like it?"

She used her free arm to hold the wampa to her chest. "I love it," she murmured. "I won't go anywhere without it."

He smiled then, his eyes lighting up like a little boy's. Leia leaned in and kissed him softly, cupping his cheek and stroking his skin.

"Can I see yours?" she asked when they broke apart.

Han handed her the package. "You can open it."

She tore into the wrapping paper, giggling when she saw her wampa counterpart. "It even has the buns!" she laughed, turning the toy over and inspecting its white dress and wig.

He smiled at her enthusiasm. "I was surprised they did the hair," he confided.

"Well, it's my most recognizable feature," she reminded him.

His smile went from sweet to wolfish. "Oh, I bet I could name some other _recognizable_ features."

She snorted, setting the wampas aside. "Oh, can you?"

"Uh huh," he rumbled, his voice low.

"Since it's my last night here and all, care to refresh me on those features?" she teased, straddling her husband.

His body clearly responded to her touch and Han kissed her deeply, eager to spend the rest of their night showing her exactly what he thought of each one of her features.


End file.
